Circa August 5th
It finally happened.
After 27+ weeks of going about my life, pushing aside the discomfort and the exhaustion, trying to keep up with my kiddo and my job and my family and the pressing needs of ‘now’. After 7 months of dishes, laundry, organizing and ignoring the black hole that will one day be my unborn son’s bedroom (and is now more of a storage closet), I finally opened the door.
I opened the door. I touched those tiny sleepers hanging in the closet. I cleared off the chair and sat and rocked for just a moment. And our new world came flooding into my heart.
So I grabbed the Pickle and we put the crib together.
Complete with crib skirt, musical mobile, and a few little friends that the Pickle donated from her stash.
Aside from just a few days here and there of cleaning things out and sewing a couple of random items, this was the first real day that I allowed myself to get excited about our little buddy. I daydreamed about rocking him in that quiet, cool room. I imagined zipping him up in those teeny tiny clothes and cuddling him against my chest. The Pickle began telling me all the things she had ‘planned’ for baby brother when he gets here. And even my husband pretended to go in, lean over the crib, and pick up a sweet crying newborn (or a Cow, in this case).
It was so fun to take some time in our busy schedule to all daydream together as a family.
Why it has taken so long, I’ll never know, but now that I’ve allowed myself to imagine and dream and look forward to his arrival, it couldn’t come soon enough.
Well… I need to finish cleaning out that room first. But then!
Bring on the Baby!